


for they were made for kissing

by stevenstamkos



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevenstamkos/pseuds/stevenstamkos
Summary: A collection of kisses, through the years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Elise did a TERRIBLE thing where they tagged me in a [soft post](http://lilyponcl.tumblr.com/post/150914315455/things-im-down-for) and told me to think about Nate/Jo and I needed to write a tiny snippet for each prompt because I have a gooey marshmallow heart.
> 
> Title from _Richard III_ by the good old bard, William Shakespeare

_1\. kisses on the tops of ferris wheels_

Nate refuses to look outside the pod, even as Jo makes excited noises about how pretty the view is. He’s perfectly happy with his face buried in Jo’s shoulder, thanks.

Jo’s tugging on his elbow though, and Nate lifts his eyes just enough so he can see Jo’s face but not how far from the ground they are. The wheel keeps going up, up, slowly, and Nate hides his face again.

“C’mon man, look, it’s not that high up,” Jo’s saying, and he pets the top of Nate’s head (which is nice) and coaxes Nate from the safety of his arms (which is not). Nate wants to say “Don’t wanna see the view,” except Jo’s smiling at him, soft, and the multicolored lights from the wheel are catching his eyes and playing over his face under his snapback.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jo asks.

“Yeah,” Nate says, but he’s not looking at the small lights of the carnival below them.

Jo suddenly realizes what he means and he’s flushing, suddenly shy, and Nate kisses him like that, suspended on top of the world.

 

_2\. hand kisses to quell my nerves_

They’re in the tunnel under the Prudential Center, waiting to enter the room where their futures will be determined. It’s just the two of them, no cameras, no media personnel hustling them to their next destination, just Nate and Jo and the last few moments where they’re still teammates together.

The air is humming with excitement and nerves, and they can’t really maintain eye contact. Jo’s fiddling with his tie, his hands a little jerky, and the fabric’s becoming more twisted and wrinkled every time his quick fingers pass over it.

Nate grabs Jo’s hand and squeezes his fingers, brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the knuckles. Jo lets out a surprised huff. It’s not something they do often, too cheesy, but Nate wants to take all that nervous energy out of Jo’s hands.

Jo smiles at him, warm and sweet, and Nate threads their fingers together.

A lot of things will change today, but this, this at least won’t ever change.

 

_3\. rushing-because-i’m-gonna-be-late quick morning kisses_

They oversleep, of course, because they stayed up late and watched a movie and got a little frisky. Jo wakes up first, and he has two seconds to focus on the clock on Nate’s bedside table before throwing the covers off and scrambling for his clothes.

“Whuzzat?” Nate mutters from the bed as Jo pulls on yesterday’s pants.

“Shit, fuck, the plane’s leaving in an hour,” Jo says, and he’s digging under the bed for the shoes he probably kicked under there last night.

Nate peers over the side of the bed, hair a mess, a pillow crease on cheek. He reaches for Jo, and Jo allows himself to be reeled in for a moment. “Don’t want you to go yet,” Nate mumbles into his jaw.

Jo turns his head and presses a hurried kiss to Nate’s mouth before pulling on his shirt. “I gotta go back to the hotel, babe. We’re hosting the Oilers day after tomorrow. Plane’s gonna leave without me.”

He makes it halfway across the room before he wavers, comes back and gives Nate a few more quick kisses.

Jo breezes out of the door and just like that he’s out of Nate’s life again for the next three, four months.

 

_4\. slow n sleepy goodnight kisses_

Nate crawls into bed, finds Jo’s warm body under the covers and curls around it. They’re too tired for sex tonight; the game against Rimouski took a lot out of them, and Nate can’t wait to get back to Halifax. Jo makes a soft, sleepy sound of protest as Nate presses his cold feet against his shins.

“Sorry,” Nate whispers, but he’s not really, not when Jo’s nuzzling closer and curling his fingers into Nate’s worn Mooseheads shirt. Nate runs his fingers through Jo’s curls, and Jo’s grumpy noises turn into contented humming.

“S’okay,” he says. He tilts his chin up and Nate’s always happy to give him what he wants. The kiss is slow and good, barely more than a caress, and Jo sighs softly into it. When Nate pulls back, he whines a little, and that’s a good point, so Nate gives him one more kiss, and one more, and one more, and they fall asleep breathing into each other’s mouths.

 

_5\. forehead kisses when i’m sad_

Jo knows how awful it feels to lose, to play your heart out and grind through 82 games only to know that you didn’t make it, that you weren’t good enough. He imagines he knows how much it hurts, to miss the playoffs year after year.

Nate flies to Tampa immediately after the regular season ends, and Jo’s prepping for the playoffs, but he drops everything to pick Nate up at the airport and take him for sushi and drive him to his apartment.

“Just hold me,” Nate whispers when Jo asks what he wants, and Jo nods, sinks into the pillows and holds Nate close. It’s a little too hot for that in Florida spring weather, but Nate clings to Jo like he’s his lifeline, and Jo clings back tighter.

Nate tucks his face into Jo’s neck and breathes, and Jo presses his lips to Nate’s temple and whispers to him until he falls asleep.

 

_6\. photo booth kisses_

“We should kiss in them,” Nate says, and Jo laughs, shoving his shoulder in the tiny booth.

The first one’s cheesy and stupid, Nate’s face angled toward the camera while Jo’s kissing his cheek, lips puckered in exaggerated fashion. Nate’s holding bunny fingers up behind Jo’s head.

The second one’s light-hearted, Jo laughing into Nate’s mouth, his eyes crinkled in delight. Nate’s eyes are open and he’s staring at Jo, eyes shining and impossibly bright.

The third one’s soft, their eyes closed, Nate’s hand cupping Jo’s face and Jo’s hand wrapped around Nate’s wrist.

The fourth one’s intimate, Jo’s arms around Nate’s neck, head tilted so their mouths are slotted together perfectly, Nate’s arms wrapped tightly around Jo’s waist. One big hand is on his back, the other cradling Jo’s head gently.

The last one’s—The last one is—

They’re not kissing anymore, just staring into each other’s eyes, foreheads touching and secret little smiles on their faces. Jo’s cheeks are flushed, and Nate’s lips are parted. They’ve long forgotten about the camera.

 

_7\. passionate late night kisses and urgent hands_

They didn’t make it. They won, but they didn’t make it.

Jo gasps into Nate’s mouth, arching against him and scrabbling at his back. Nate’s kissing back just as desperately, breathing raggedly into Jo’s mouth and pressing “I love you”s into his heated skin.

“Please,” Jo whispers, and Nate must know, because he gives and gives and gives, and Jo feels like they can’t get close enough, feels like he can’t move fast enough because the night is swallowed up in hours that pass too quickly.

They kiss like it’s the last time they’re going to be together, because it is, and they both know that when the sun comes up, they’re going to have to put the World Cup behind them. It’s what they’ve done again and again, for three years now, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Jo leaves scratches down Nate’s back and faint bruises on his hips, and his mouth brands dark circles along the column of Nate’s throat.

There’s a plane leaving Toronto for Tampa Bay tomorrow, and Jo’s going to be on it.

He thought they had more time.

 

_8\. kisses that distract me from homework and stress_

Nate’s frantically tackling his homework with an eraser when Jo walks into the room, freshly showered and a little damp, a towel slung over his shoulder. “Not now, Jo,” he mutters as Jo kneels behind him and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

Jo only hums softly and continues peppering Nate with butterfly kisses, and Nate really needs to pass this class so he can graduate high school. He spent too much time at the rink and he’s got two more pages worth of problems to do, and it’s already fairly late at night, he doesn’t have time for this—

He turns his head to tell Jo to get lost and Jo kisses him, a little sloppy and a lot sweet. Nate melts into it, because he can’t not, and Jo makes a needy sound that’s lost immediately as Nate opens his mouth, deepens the kiss.

He wastes an hour slowly making out with Jo instead of doing algebra, but he doesn’t really mind.

 

_9\. a kiss on my blushing cheeks after u say something sappy_

They haven’t even played a real game yet, just done some practice skates, and Nate already feels like he’s over the moon. It feels so natural to have Jo on the ice with him again, and his heart does a funny flip when he looks over and sees Jo walking over to his stall. There’s a faint helmet mark on his forehead and his cheeks are flushed with exertion. He’s so fucking beautiful that Nate can’t resist going over there and telling him so.

“So beautiful, Jo,” he says, and Jo’s cheeks get redder. He squirms in Nate’s arms, trying to get away, flustered and surprised.

“Nate, man, stop, that’s so sappy,” Jo whispers furiously. His eyes dart to their new teammates, who are diligently pretending not to eavesdrop.

“But it’s true, babe, you’re so beautiful. Love being out there with you again.”

Jo turns his head away, too embarrassed to keep looking at Nate, and Nate presses a kiss to his rosy cheek. Jo’s half-strangled complaint dies in his throat.

Team North America is going to wreck. How could they not, when Nate and Jo are together again?

 

_10\. kisses_

Nate kisses the top of Jo’s head as he shuffles around him to the coffee machine.

Jo’s laughing, snow in his hair and on his clothes and powdered under his jacket where Nate shoved it earlier, and his nose is scrunched up and pink from the cold. Nate drops a kiss to the tip as he gathers Jo into his arms.

Nate’s cheeks are wet when Jo kisses them, and he makes a soft, heartbroken noise in the back of his throat. Jo shushes him gently, carding his fingers through Nate’s short hair.

Jo kisses like he’s starved for it, quick and desperate in a small room in Amalie Arena. He gasps into Nate’s mouth and grips his shoulders tightly like their time together is too short. It always is.

Nate rolls over and on top of Jo, and Jo grunts softly as he’s woken up. He’s soft and pliant though when Nate presses their mouths together, exchanging lazy morning kisses.

“Hey you,” Nate breathes against his lips, and Jo’s eyes flutter open slowly.

He smiles back. “Hi.”


End file.
